


Fouled

by ToastyToaster22



Series: Toasty's Digi AU Dump [7]
Category: Digimon Adventure
Genre: Gen, Non Graphic Description of Injuries, Original Character(s), Physical hurt/comfort, basketball injuries, some blood, the foul mentioned in Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:42:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22336483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToastyToaster22/pseuds/ToastyToaster22
Summary: Takeru hastily looked down and saw blood dripping onto his new basketball jersey. Could feel it oozing warmly down his neck. Frightened now, he leaned back and yanked both hands up to wipe the blood away. But he froze when he caught sight of his left hand. The world exploded back into clarity.Two of his fingers were definitely not supposed to look like that.Takeru was screaming.
Series: Toasty's Digi AU Dump [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605736
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43





	Fouled

Nine-and-a-half-year-old Takeru Takaishi wondered why opening his eyes felt like waking up. He was awake already, wasn't he? He thought he'd just blinked. So why was he on the floor? Why the heck did it feel like there were spotlights on him? It was so bright and uncomfortably hot.

He blinked a couple more times to try to clear his vision, but it swam nauseatingly. His whole head felt fuzzy like when he was sick, and his ears were roaring. Pounding with his heartbeat.

What on earth? Why was he looking at someone's shoes?

The boy tried to peel himself off the gym floor and made it to his hands and knees before realizing there was a big, blurry person running towards him, while a crowd of smaller people backed off. He rubbed a hand to his chin. It was hot and itchy, and he meant to scratch at it, but something wasn't right. When he pulled his hand away, it was smeared with red.

Sudden alarm blazed through the child. He hastily looked down and saw blood dripping onto his new basketball jersey. Could feel it oozing warmly down his neck. Frightened now, he leaned back and yanked both hands up to wipe the blood away. But he froze when he caught sight of his left hand. The world exploded back into clarity.

Two of his fingers were definitely _not supposed to look like that._

Takeru was screaming.

"Woah, woah, son! You're okay. Calm down." His coach was kneeling beside him. "Yoshida, got get the first aid kit, a towel and some ice from the nurse's office."

Takeru did not see how he could be okay. His teeth ached, his whole arm felt like road rash, he was apparently bleeding, and _his fingers were broken?_

"Everybody else go get changed, all right?" The older man called over his shoulder to the rest of the team. "Practice is just about over anyway." He turned back to his young charge. "All right Takaishi, let's see the damage… You gotta stop yelling. Take deep breaths, okay? I'll get you all fixed up."

Takeru sucked in a big breath and tried to focus on Coach Hashimoto, and not on his fingers.

"There you go, kiddo. You're going to be fine. Now let me see that chin for a second."

The chosen of hope breathed heavily through his nose but obediently tilted his head back. Warm fingers prodded at his jaw gently. It stung regardless, and Takeru tried to will away the oncoming tears.

"Hmm, looks like it's just a nasty scrape. Open your mouth for me?"

Takeru's brow furrowed as his coach poked his teeth, they were sore, but didn't bother him all that-

"Ow!" he yelped. That one hurt and moved when touched.

"Huh, was that loose before today?"

Oh gosh, was it? Had he banged his head hard enough to knock a tooth loose? No, wait. Yes. Yes, he'd been playing with that one all week.

He nodded frantically, eyes still wide and locked on his coach's thoughtful face.

"Oh good, no real damage then."

Takeru's friend and teammate skidded back into the gym then, a pile of supplies in his arms.

"Is Takeru going to be okay, Coach?" he cried, dropping the first aid kit next to them and sitting as well.

"Yup, he'll be right as rain in just a bit. Give me that towel. Thanks."

Takeru stared at his friend Eiji while the older man cleaned him up a bit. The other boy looked half frightened for Takeru, and half excited to be included in the action. Hashimoto wrapped one of the ice packs with a clean part of the towel and told Takeru to hold it to his chin.

"I'd say that might need stitches, but there's no skin there to stitch back together," Coach Hashimoto chuckled to himself. "We'll just wrap it up real good and it should heal on its own."

Eiji let out a sound of utter disgust and Takeru inwardly agreed. He couldn't see the wound, and now he had absolutely no desire to look in a mirror. Despite this, the initial adrenaline from seeing his hand was wearing off and he felt himself slowly calming down. If the coach wasn't urgently insisting he needed to go to the hospital, he couldn't be that bad, right? His whole body just felt hot, throbby, and uncomfortable.

"Hey, Yoshida. Entertain Takaishi for a minute, okay?"

Eiji perked up and saluted the man. The boy hopped to his feet and hurried a few feet away.

"Oh man, it looked so crazy! You were over here, and Haru was right there, and you were running so fast-" Takeru's teammate energetically attempted to re-enact the foul, with full commentary on his thoughts and even slowmo. It was overly dramatic, but effectively distracting from the poking and prodding the coach was doing.

"And then, like, I thought you were dead or something, 'cus for a second you just laid there-"

Takeru let out a shriek as a shooting pain ran from his wrist to the tips of his fingers.

"Hey, hey, you did good!" Coach Hashimoto said hurriedly. "See, look. Your hand's all straightened out! Don't worry, I've seen much worse. I could fix dislocated fingers in my sleep…"

Takeru gazed nervously at his fingers, which though swollen and definitely bruising, were back in there correct positions. Eiji was still yammering loudly about his run to the nurse's office, and his coach was reminiscing about a particularly nasty foul from his youth, but Takeru ignored them. He watched intently as Hashimoto skillfully wrapped his whole hand, wrapping a second ice pack right onto the back of his hand. This man was obviously a pro. For the first time he felt himself truly settle down. He was in good hands.

* * *

"Here's the phone, honey. You can just put it on the end table when you're done. If you need anything, I'll be in the kitchen, or you can just have Eiji help you, okay?"

Takeru took the phone in his good hand and leaned back on the couch. "Thanks, Mrs. Yoshida. I will," the chosen of hope said gratefully. He took a moment to snuggle into all the pillows his friend's mother had propped him on. He'd only been to their house a few times, but he enjoyed himself thoroughly each time.

Eiji turned the TV on with the volume low, and politely pretended to ignore Takeru as he dialed a familiar number. The phone rang, and Eiji flipped past one of Takeru's favorite movies. The blond boy flapped his hand in his friend's direction and whispered, "Oh! Go back! That one's awesome, can we watch that?"

The dark-haired boy switched the channel quickly, giving Takeru a thumbs up.

" _Moshi moshi, Ishida residence. This is Yamato speaking."_

Takeru started at the sudden voice but recovered in an instant.

"Onii-chan! Hi!" he chirped, happy that his brother was actually home.

"Takeru? Where are you? I don't recognize this number at all," he sounded concerned already and Takeru hadn't even said anything.

"I'm at Eiji's house. Practice got out early today… uh, because. Okay, Onii-chan, can you promise to not freak out?"

There was silence on the other end for a moment and Takeru was pretty sure his brother was somehow already having an aneurysm.

"Honestly, Teeks? No. What's wrong?" he said tersely.

The younger brother sighed with exasperation and fondness. His brother was so easily stressed out.

"I'm okay, I promise, Onii-chan. But someone hit me pretty hard during practice. Coach Hashimoto let everyone out early so he could take me to a clinic. _NOT the emergency room. I did not go to the hospital. I'm okay,"_ he said hurriedly when it sounded like Yamato was going to interrupt in a panic. "He said he had to take me to make sure I didn't have a concussion. _Which I don't._ And to have someone tape my fingers up better."

Yamato huffed in agitation on the other end of the line.

"Okay, so you don't have a concussion and you did something to some fingers. That tells me nothing, Takeru."

The nine-year-old smiled in thanks when Mrs. Yoshida placed a glass of water on the table next to him.

"Well, okay, so I broke my pinkie and my ring finger on my left hand," he listed off. "And I have a big scrape on my chin because I whacked my face on the floor, so it kind of hurts to talk. But I didn't even knock my loose tooth out, so it wasn't that bad, I guess. Mrs. Yoshida is making super soft noodles for dinner and, and Onii-chan! She winked and said ice cream would help ice my jaw. You know who she is like? She's so nice, she's just like Sora." Takeru couldn't help but giggle a little. As much as he liked being thought of as a capable young man, he was hurt and sore, and if someone wanted to spoil him a little… Well who was he to let them down?

Yamato sighed.

"And where's Mom? Is she seriously still at work even when you had to go to the clinic?"

Takeru frowned at the accusatory tone. For a moment he just sat there, poking at the half-melted ice pack he was supposed to have on his jaw. Snorting a bit, and trying not to acknowledge the concerned look his friend was sending him, he picked it up and slapped it on a little harder than he should have. He swallowed back a wince at the cold.

"Mom works late Thursday nights. But she's getting out early and she's going to pick me up at eight. She already feels really bad about it. So don't- Don't say anything to her about it, please?"

"I wasn't going to- Wow, Takeru, I think I can feel you pouting at me from here. I won't bother her about it, all right?"

Takeru grinned and nodded, even though the motion sent a drop of chilled water down his sleeve. "Thanks, Onii-chan."

The line quieted for a minute. The chosen of hope took a moment to check in on the movie. It was still the beginning, so he was happy to know he wasn't missing much.

"Hey, Takeru?"

Takeru hummed in response. It really did hurt to talk this much.

"How about I come visit this weekend? Maybe I can treat you to an ice cream too, if you think you'll still be sore?" Yamato said slyly.

Takeru dropped the ice pack in surprise. Despite seeing each other more often since their digital adventure, it had been close to two months since they'd actually been together.

A painful smile blazed across his face and he bounced forward, almost hopping to his feet.

"I'll still be sore!"


End file.
